Never Kissing You Again
by They Felt It Too
Summary: Miley knew she was playing a dangerous game, she knew she should leave. Sooner or later, Mikayla would figure it out. But giving her up would be like giving up sunlight. Mikiley one-shot.


Title: Never Kissing You Again  
By: They Felt It Too  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Hannah Montana and all of the characters therein belong to Disney. I'm not making any money from this fic.  
Summary: Miley knew she was playing a dangerous game, she knew she should leave. Sooner or later, Mikayla would figure it out. But giving her up would be like giving up sunlight. Mikiley one-shot.

A/N: So, I'm not really living anywhere that gets the Disney Channel right now... and my internet is so slow and expensive (we pay by the megabyte) that PICTURES are out of the question, let alone streaming video. (I'm living in Africa with my parents.) So I really know nothing that happened after the first two seasons of Hannah Montana. So if there are any mistakes here, sorry! You can just think of this as happening right after Season 2, if that helps.

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**Never Kissing You Again**

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Miley knew how dangerous it was, this game she was playing, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

Maybe, she thought, because it wasn't really a game.

"What's wrong?" Mikayla whispered, as she slid her fingertips up Miley's arm. Miley shivered, goosebumps rising under the other girl's touch.

"Wrong?" Miley asked, pretending ignorance. She'd been lying on her back, looking at the ceiling; now she rolled onto her side, to face the girl next to her on the bed. The arm, still tingling from Mikayla's touch, was crushed between Miley's body and the bed.

As Miley shifted position, she watched the small, dark-haired girl so near to her. Mikayla was also lying on her side, and her was body curled up loosely. Their knees bumped as they lay facing each other.

Miley forced a smile to her lips, only to find, as she looked into Mikayla's eyes, that her smile was genuine after all. "What could be wrong? I'm here with you."

Mikayla shook her head, with her cheek still pressed against the pillow; her eyes didn't leave Miley's. Her hand slid up to Miley's shoulder, and rested there for a moment.

"You were here, but you weren't," she said. "Why do you do that all the time?"

How was Mikayla so damned perceptive? When they'd first met, Miley was convinced she'd never met a more shallow, self-involved person in her life. Hiding this should have been easy. Mikayla wasn't supposed to notice, wasn't supposed to _see_.

"I... I don't know," lied Miley.

"So often, when we're so close together, even when we touch..." Mikayla took her hand from Miley's shoulder and raised it to touch the other girl's face, gently. So gently it made Miley want to cry, though for the life of her she couldn't say why. "...you're a million miles away. Where do you go? Why do you leave?"

"I..." There was nothing Miley could say.

"Don't you want to be here with me?" Mikayla pleaded, softly, her voice breaking slightly.

Miley closed her eyes. "Yes, I want to be here with you," she whispered, fervently. _But I don't _want_ to want to be here, _she could only add in her head.

When she opened her eyes again, Mikayla was still staring at her. Her expression changed, and she looked thoughtful, appeared to be studying Miley's features, as though the girl were a particularly tricky puzzle she was trying to solve.

The expression unsettled Miley; no, more than that, it _scared _her, badly. If one thing in this world _could not _happen, Mikayla could not solve that puzzle. If she figured it out, if she clicked the pieces into place, it would be the end of Miley's normal life. The end of public high school and anonymity, of being able to walk down the street without worrying about paparazzi and crazed fans.

How could she be here? How could she be doing this? Once the secret was out, that was it; it couldn't be taken back. She knew what was at stake, she knew what she was risking, and she knew it would only be a matter of time. The wig only changed her hair, and Mikayla was becoming more and more intimately acquainted with the rest of Miley's features. Sooner or later, she'd figure it out.

As much to still her own thoughts as to wipe that puzzled expression from Mikayla's face, Miley leaned over to kiss the other girl, deeply. They pressed against each other, and for a time, both girls' thoughts were derailed.

Kissing Mikayla, touching her, was like nothing Miley had ever imagined. She'd never dreamed it could feel like this. All that time, as she dated boys, she thought she was able to hold back because she was a _good_ girl. She thought she never gave in and went too far because she had self-control, because she believed in abstinence.

She still believed, but when she and Mikayla kissed, when they were so close like this, she just couldn't remember to be good. Conscious thought fled completely. And anyway, being here with Mikayla was wrong for so many reasons, what was one more added to the pile?

_Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. _It was a weird saying Miley had heard adults use sometimes, and she never really understood what it meant, but it seemed to fit.

They finally broke apart, both girls breathless as they gazed at each other.

"How do you do that?" Mikayla murmured.

"Do what?" Miley was still trying to catch her breath.

"Make me feel so..." Mikayla grinned as she searched for the right word. "Amazing. Perfect. Like nothing else exists."

She snuggled into Miley's arms, and Miley squeezed gently.

"I don't know," she answered. "About the same way you do it, I guess."

Mikayla sighed, happily. But the moment didn't last.

She pulled away slightly and propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at Miley sternly.

"You were trying to distract me," she accused.

_Crap, she's not letting go of this, _Miley worried. She forced herself to relax.

"Since when do I need an excuse to kiss you?" she asked, cracking a grin as she looked up Mikayla. She didn't bother to lift her head from the pillow, opting instead to gaze upwards as Mikayla towered over her.

Mikayla rolled her eyes. "You don't, but that doesn't change the fact that you were trying to distract me. Why?"

"I didn't know you objected so much to my kissing you," Miley teased. "I can always-"

"Wow," Mikayla interrupted. "You are trying _really_ hard to put me off the subject, aren't you?"

"What? No! You're being paranoid."

"No, I'm not," Mikayla contradicted her flatly. "Look, if there's something you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but don't _lie_ to me about it."

Miley's mind raced as she tried to figure out how to respond to that, and she kept her expression as light and unconcerned as possible, even throwing in a mild, affectionate scoff.

"It's that! Right there! That drives me _crazy_!" Mikayla cried.

"What?" Miley was genuinely bewildered. She hadn't been doing anything; she'd just been thinking!

"You're not just lying with what you say. You're lying with... with your teasing tone of voice, with your smile, with the way you're lying there grinning up at me. You're trying to act warm when you feel cold."

Miley could do nothing but stare, now.

"You're a good actress," Mikayla continued blithely. "Almost good enough to fool me, except I recognize some of your techniques. You've had acting classes, haven't you?"

"I take a drama class at school," Miley answered as evenly as she could. It wasn't a lie... or rather, it was true that she took drama at school. She couldn't help feeling that she was lying with the truth, somehow.

"You didn't learn _that_ at a public high school."

"Maybe I'm just talented, did you think of that?"

Mikayla rolled her eyes. "Of course you're talented. You know I think you're amazing and could be amazing at anything. But I know enough actors to be able to tell when someone's been trained one-on-one."

"Diva territory," Miley said, and Mikayla flinched.

When they'd first started spending time together- with Miley as Miley, of course, not Hannah—Mikayla had been extremely stuck-up about being a pop star and a movie star. In fact, she'd been downright insufferable. Miley had barely been able to put up with her posturing, and at every turn had tried to duck Mikayla's increasingly desperate attempts at friendship.

Then, one day, she discovered that Mikayla honestly had no clue what she was doing wrong. She'd been bewildered by Miley's rejection, hurt and confused, because she truly didn't understand how she came across. Everyone else she'd known had been so impressed with her fame, they thought it was natural that a pop star would act like that. Her mother was a typical stage mom, and her friends were all either in awe of her pop star status or similarly stuck-up about their own stardom. Nobody had ever told Mikayla that when she acted that way, it was _really really annoying_.

Nobody, that is, until Miley.

It hadn't been a behavior Mikayla was able to change over night. In fact, she still lapsed into her snobbishness sometimes. But she'd been mortified to learn about why Miley had disliked her, and seemed genuine in her desire to change. They made a deal that whenever Mikayla started showing off, Miley would tell her, so she could stop. Eventually, Miley's gentle warnings became less careful and more casual, and now she just had to say, "Diva territory," and Mikayla would hastily become a normal person again.

But this time, as soon as Miley said it, she felt awful. The look on Mikayla's face was enough to make her want to die. Miley sighed heavily, and she sat up in the bed, crossing her legs.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at the blanket bunched in her lap. Then, knowing she owed it to the other girl, she forced herself to look at Mikayla, face-to-face "That wasn't fair of me."

Mikayla didn't answer.

"You weren't being a diva," Miley said, still fidgeting with the blanket. "You were just... just saying something that had to do with your point. Not showing off doesn't mean not being allowed to talk about a really big part of your life. I'm... yeah. I'm really sorry."

"Thank you," Mikayla said quietly. "Miley... does it have to do with why you don't want to tell anyone? About us?"

Miley sighed. "Yeah," she said. "I guess it does."

"I know you came from Tennessee, that you don't think your family would approve. Even if you _do_ live in LA now, where nobody cares."

Miley nodded.

"But," Mikayla went on, "I can't help thinking that if that were the problem, why you look so far away sometimes, you'd just have told me that."

Miley still couldn't think of anything to say.

Mikayla sat up too, her shoulder brushing against Miley's. Now she was the one who wouldn't meet the other girl's eye. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"I..."

No. No, she didn't trust Mikayla. She couldn't stay away from her, but she didn't trust her. She was sure that the moment the other girl discovered that Miley Stewart and Hannah Montana were one and the same, the rest of the world would know soon after.

But if she was so sure Mikayla's hate for Hannah outweighed her love for Miley, why was she here?

What was she doing here _anyway_? This was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing she'd ever done- and she'd done some really stupid things in her life. Yet she kept coming back and doing it again, and again, and again. Risking everything, and for what? Was it worth it?

It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be worth it.

_So why not get up and go? _Miley demanded to herself. _Why not end things, right here and right now?_

Because...

"When I think about never kissing you again, I can't stand it. It feels like... like never seeing the sunlight again, or never breathing." She said it out loud, even though it wasn't an answer to Mikayla's question. Then again, it sort of was.

Mikayla had been silent during the several minutes Miley was thinking, and she didn't immediately respond when the other girl spoke. The silence stretched out, and Miley's mind was curiously blank. She just listened to the quiet and waited.

"So you think about never kissing me again?" Mikayla asked, voice small.

"I can't stand it," Miley said again.

"That's just more reason to ask why you think about it."

Maybe Mikayla wouldn't tell. Maybe Mikayla's feelings for her were genuine enough that she wouldn't ruin her girlfriend's life over a grudge against a rival pop star. If that were true, she'd be less likely to lash out if she heard it from Miley herself, if she'd actually been told, instead of figuring it out for herself. If she felt like she was being trusted with the secret, maybe she'd rise to the occasion.

Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Miley hadn't kept herself hidden this long by playing dice with her secret. She couldn't risk it all now. She was risking everything just by _being _here. She was stupid, so very stupid. She couldn't make it _worse_.

"There are a lot of reasons I'd think about it," Miley pointed out. "Because my family wouldn't approve. Because I can't tell anybody. Whenever I come here, I lie to my family, and to my best friends, about where I'm going. All of those are reasons I'd think about... you know."

"I get your family," Mikayla allowed, "but your friends? Would they really be so homophobic?"

Miley squirmed. "It's less to do with the fact that you're a girl, and more to do with that you're... well, Mikayla."

That was true enough, even if not for the reason Mikayla would assume.

"But you dated Jake Ryan," she pointed out.

Bingo- _exactly_ the wrong assumption Miley'd expected.

"Yes, and that went so well," she answered sarcastically. "Anyway... to be entirely honest," she said, voice fervent, "I'd really rather not be in the public spotlight." She paused. "Dating Jake Ryan, and then dating you? After you and Jake broke up? The tabloids would jump on that like... like... like something that jumps on things and tears them apart," she finished lamely.

Mikayla couldn't help giggling a little.

"Being famous isn't so bad, you know," Mikayla said, with a grin. "Some people even enjoy it."

"I really don't think I'd be one of those people," Miley answered. "Not if I couldn't turn it off."

Crap. Had she said too much? She glanced over at Mikayla, but her words didn't appear have rung any bells.

"You keep dancing around all my questions," Mikayla observed. "You're giving me answers, but not to what I asked."

"It's the best I can do," Miley admitted, apologetically.

"It's okay. At least you're not lying anymore. As I said, you're allowed to have secrets."

Mikayla sounded sad, but not angry. Miley guessed that her girlfriend was wondering why she didn't trust her, and felt a pang of guilt. Still, it wasn't like Mikayla was blameless. If she hadn't decided that to detest Hannah Montana before ever meeting her, hadn't held onto her hate for no good reason, then she'd almost certainly have known the truth by now.

Miley didn't let herself think about the word "love" in connection with Mikayla. She couldn't, not when this entire relationship was doomed to failure... no, to complete disaster. Part of the reason she felt so much despair at the thought of losing Mikayla was that she knew, someday soon, she would. Either Miley would summon the will-power to break off the relationship, or Mikayla would discover that she was Hannah Montana and expose her to the world. There was no third option. She was just fooling herself when she thought otherwise.

She cared for her girlfriend, a lot, she couldn't deny that (to herself, of course, as nobody but the two of them knew she _had _a girlfriend). But she also knew, better than anyone, that Mikayla could be petty, could be vicious and vindictive. True, she obviously cared about Miley, who was very rarely the target of her spite- so long as she wasn't wearing her wig.

But still, it was there. Despite all those good qualities that had enchanted Miley as she'd discovered them these past months, Mikayla could be plain malicious. And there was less than no guarantee that, upon learning the truth, that malice wouldn't be turned directly to her.

"I just wish I could help," Mikayla murmured, touching Miley's face again. "You seem so... so worried. Scared, even. If there's something you're afraid of, I want to be there. I want to be with you, next to you, protecting you, when you face it."

Miley wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

_Oh, Mikayla... why did you have to hate Hannah so much? Why did you have to lo- to care about me? How can you like this me and hate that me?_

It wasn't _fair_. It shouldn't have to be like this. It wasn't fair that Mikayla look at her with so much compassion, that she look at her so protectively, when in a heartbeat, in a single moment of comprehension, she would become the enemy bent on destroying her.

"I wish you could," was all Miley could say, her voice breaking dangerously.

It hurt so much. It couldn't be worth it. Going through this couldn't be better than leaving it all behind. Saying goodbye couldn't hurt worse than this. Nothing could hurt worse than this.

Miley opened her mouth to speak, to finally have the courage to break it off... and then closed it again, dissolving into tears at the pain, like a punch to the gut, that ripped through her at even the intention of leaving.

Mikayla was startled, then overwhelmed with worry as she watched her girlfriend fall apart in front of her. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Miley, tightly, and rocked her back and forth. Stroked her hair, rubbed her back, just murmured that it would be okay, but that just made Miley cry harder.

Impossibly, it seemed that the only thing worse than staying... was leaving.

Mikayla didn't let go, didn't seem to get impatient, just sat there, comforting her, for as long as she needed. She was Miley's rock, her guardian angel, just as surely as she was the demon who would someday destroy her.


End file.
